“Why yes. Don’t you see? It’s the perfect crime – no evidence or DNA. Just D.O.A. Yes, I dare say, the delete key is a letter of interest.”

“We should put it under surveillance, Holmes.”

“Quite right, perhaps, a desktop disguised as a potted plant. And it doesn’t need sunlight or water.”

The conjectures stopped there.

Watson and Holmes suddenly left the scene after an incident with the Device Manager, who accidentally ejected them from the case.

Oh, well. The desktop has limited memory anyway. 2.99 Gigabytes that gobble up RAM and fragment jam that get stuck between the CPU and a hard drive.

Who cares? They’re only words and memory of words in this version of Word, an ecosystem of micro bits on the page.

If a biologist were to study the desktop habitat, he would find infinite lifeforms amid the fonts. The most noble one of all, the infamous Font de Leon, a blue-blooded Times New Roman.

With his sidekick Thesaurus, he wanders around the white drifts of spaces in a quest to find the perfect word.

One day, while traveling through the mirage of pages, the Font closed the window and lost his way. There was no turning back and no keyboarding forward. All is lost when there’s nothing to save.

This is the heartbreak of Psoriasis and flaky fingerstapping letters that don’t know an “a” from an “n” but know when a sentence ends.

Meanwhile, the Recount de Calisto hired a courier to hunt down the Algerian, who was seen lingering amid rebellious lowercase letters, along with a petulant typeface that demanded attention in bolded UPPERCASE words.

Big Boned™ Rounded Typeface (Photo credit: _Untitled-1)

All of the letters promptly disappeared in the quicksand of the document, an accidental demise, and not a felony by the prime suspect, Delete, the key to every crime.